Chapter 43
If someone had told Tyson he’d be sitting across from his ex-wife in AmaRin a week after Jenna had left, he’d have told them
they were crazy. When he’d spotted her in the coffee shop lobby, he came to a dead halt. His first inclination was to run—but
then she saw him.
She convinced him to stay awhile, and he followed her to one of the back booths. It wasn’t that he hadn’t forgiven her. He
just had no unfinished business with her. That season of his life was over. He’d learned from it and moved on.
Britt told him she’d arrived on the island yesterday with her parents and was staying through Pony Penning Days. She seemed
to think he might be interested in all the goings-on in her life as she regaled him with them for the next thirty minutes.
He’d forgotten how much she talked—and how little she actually said. His headaches had been gone for a few days, but he could
feel another one coming on.
She was still very attractive with long blonde waves and sea-green eyes. But he viewed her differently now. She might be smart
and talented, but she was also fickle and flighty, always fluttering after the next exciting thing. She would never be content
with what she had.
The whole conversation made him homesick for steady, loyal Jenna, who’d shown him what true love really was.
He ached at the thought of her. It seemed as if she’d been gone months instead of only a week.
He’d started to reach out a dozen times and stopped himself.
How would he ever give her the time and space he’d promised her?
Britt cackled at something she’d said, and he tried to pay attention as she finished the story about her cat Isabella. Britt
had always treated the feline like a princess, though she had only ever hissed at Tyson.
He drained the rest of his cold brew. He was searching for the words to make a polite escape when Britt finished her story
and placed her hand on his. “I was planning to call you this week and set something up. But running into you has been so much
fun. I’ve missed talking to you, Ty.”
Oh boy. He tried to withdraw his hand.
But she held tight. “Don’t you miss me? Miss our walks on the beach, the fun nights out”—she offered a coy smile—“the lazy
Saturday mornings in bed?”
He leaned back in the booth, taking his hand with him. “We had it pretty good there for a while. But our marriage is over,
Britt. We’ve both moved on.”
Her gaze swept over his face, a decisive look coming over her features. “Do you want me to say it? Okay, I made a mistake.
And I regret it. I never should’ve left you.”
“But you did. And I’ve moved on.”
She leaned into the table, her focus sharpening on him. “I’m asking for another chance, Tyson. We were good once before. We
could be good again—you know it’s true.”
He blinked. He had not expected this. And he couldn’t even entertain the idea. Not after what he’d had with Jenna. He had
a fresh perspective on love, and it had changed everything. What he and Britt had before was a poor imitation of the real
thing. He felt sorry for Britt that she hadn’t yet realized that.
And even though Jenna wasn’t able to go forward with their relationship, he still loved her. And that wasn’t about to change anytime soon.
Britt gave a nervous chuckle. “You’re awfully quiet over there.”
He felt a nip of sympathy at the hope in her eyes. It was false hope. This was never happening. “Listen, Britt. I accept your
apology. I made mistakes too, and I’m sorry I couldn’t be the husband you wanted. I don’t have any ill feelings toward you.”
It was true. The realization was freeing, like a breath of fresh air. “But I think we should leave well enough alone.”
Her eyes drooped at the corners. “Really, Ty? It sounds like you don’t care about me at all.”
“I do care. I wish you the best. Really, I do. I just . . .”
“Don’t love me anymore.” Her plush lips turned down in a pout.
“No, I don’t. I’m sorry if that sounds harsh, but I believe our relationship has run its course. And for what it’s worth,
I don’t think you’re in love with me either. Maybe you’re just at loose ends and looking for something or someone to make
you happy. But we’ve been down this road before, and it didn’t end well.”
She blinked away the tears that had gathered in her eyes.
“I’d like to just take the good memories we had and leave the rest behind.”
She dashed away a tear. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I’m sure you have good things going on in your life. You said your job’s going well.” She was a residential interior designer
with a prominent group.
A light shimmered in her eyes. “I’m up for a promotion soon. I’m pretty excited about that . . .”
“There you go. I bet you’ll get it.”
“I think I will. Yeah. That’ll feel pretty good, being head of all the other designers.”
“You’re very good at what you do.”
Britt finished her drink and offered him a hopeful smile. “Thanks, Tyson. You always know just what to say.” She checked the
time. “I should probably go. Mom and Dad are expecting me.”
As they scooted from the booth, she tossed him a wink. “But if you ever change your mind . . .”
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Take care, Britt.”
At the door she gave him a brief hug. “See ya, Ty.” Without a backward glance she sashayed from the shop, her little skirt
swishing behind her.
Ty shook his head as he headed toward the restroom. He was glad to have that conversation over with. Just needed to splash
some cold water on his face. Was it eighty degrees in here or was it just him?
When he left the restroom he exited the building and headed down the gravel lane to the parking lot in the back. He was glad
there was no sign of Britt. He hoped he wouldn’t run into her again while she was on the island. But if he did, maybe they
could just be casual. Exchange a friendly hello and let it go at that. Maybe today’s conversation had offered her some closure.
The thought had no sooner occurred than Marissa stepped around her car on her way to the coffee shop’s entrance. It was impossible
to miss her as their cars were the only two in the lot. She wore her paramedic uniform as she’d just come off shift.
Must be his lucky day. “Afternoon.”
Something flashed in her eyes. “What, are you stalking me now?”
“I was here before you, Marissa.”
“Yeah, but I come here every Sunday afternoon . . .”
She was deluded. “Well, enjoy your drink.” He moved toward his truck.
“Wait. What were you doing here then?”
He spoke slowly. “Getting coffee.”
“Where is it?”
Something was seriously wrong with this woman. “I drank it inside. Have a nice afternoon.” He turned back toward his truck,
trying to shake off the encounter.
“You probably think you’re hot stuff, don’t you? Being written up in the paper like you’re some kind of hero.”
He was done with this. He shook his head as he slipped inside his truck and closed the door.